


Stylan 2020: The Ficlets

by irishmizzy, miss_bennie



Series: way, no way [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6213121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishmizzy/pseuds/irishmizzy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_bennie/pseuds/miss_bennie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lost year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. you can't have s-e-x in front of a b-a-b-i-e

**Author's Note:**

> All of these are set after [way, no way](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2739353). We're just getting our ducks in a row, making sure we've got all the Stylanverse things in one place.

Even though they’re expecting it since Sophia’s been in labor for nearly a day, Harry still grumbles loudly in Niall’s ear the second Niall’s phone starts ringing. He shoves it in Niall’s face, mumbling something about how Liam’s his friend when it’s half five. 

“Payno!” Niall tries to keep his voice upbeat. “Do you have good news for us?”

“Niall, I can’t,” Liam sounds so choked up and happy that Niall digs his fingers into Harry’s shoulder, can barely contain himself. “She’s so perfect, and Soph was amazing, and I don’t think anything can ever be better than this, Nialler. Take Stylan’s Grammy win, and then add a million to it.”

“Oh, Liam.” Niall smiles at Harry when he finally sits up a bit, snaking his arm around Niall’s waist and grinning sleepily up at him. “So it all went well?”

“Ace, I’m sending a photo in a mo.” Liam laughs, this sound that Niall feels all the way to his toes. “She’s the most beautiful little girl, looks just like her mother. My little Pepper.”

“Wait,” Niall laughs, Harry making a face up at him when he continues, “you got Soph to agree to Pepper? Thought that was a joke name you were just using while she was pregs.”

“Shes a Pepper, Niall. You’ll see.” Liam sounds distracted for a moment, talking to someone else before he continues, “Nialler, give Hazza a kiss for me, yeah? I’ll text the info, you two will come later, yeah?”

“Couldn’t stop us,” Niall grins, smoothing down Harry’s eyebrow where it’s gone mad. “Love you, Payno. And Soph. And, ah, Pepper.”

That one will take getting used to. But Laser had settled in quick enough. 

Niall chucks his phone off to the side when Liam rings off, Harry stretching next to him. His eyes are open, at least, when Niall shuffles down the bed to curl around him. 

“So,” Harry laughs into Niall’s neck, “Pepper’s a go, huh.”

“He sounds so happy,” Niall sighs, dipping his head down to kiss Harry. “Liam said to give you that.”

“I like how Liam thinks,” Harry reaches up to trace at Niall’s jaw before kissing him again, sliding his tongue into Niall’s mouth, teasing. 

“Thought you wanted to sleep,” Niall whispers when Harry palms at his arse. 

“Remember the time we,” Harry gets distracted for a second in a snog, squeezing at Niall’s arse harder. “Um, when Stevie Nicks was born? And we…”

“Are you saying you want to celebrate the birth of another child with a fuck?” Niall can feel his cock thickening up already; Harry always has the best ideas.

“Never told anyone about the first time,” Harry grins, shifting so Niall’s on top of him, the two of them tangled together. “Let’s see if we can continue our streak.”

“Another jizz oath?” Niall laughs weakly, already distracted by Harry stretching to the side table for lube and a condom. 

“Something like that,” Harry pushes at Niall until he kicks out of his pants, always glad that Harry likes to sleep bollocks naked more often than not. “C’mon.”

“Let me,” Niall nicks the lube from Harry before he can get his fingers in himself. Sometimes Niall prefers to do it, watch Harry fall apart on his fingers and then his cock. Drives him mad with how much it makes him feel. 

“Yeah yeah,” Harry’s babbling soon enough, well before Niall’s working the third finger in. “Niall,” he pulls at Niall’s shoulders, and Niall snogs him quick before he grabs the condom.

“How do you want,” Niall slicks up his cock with his wet hand. Harry’s got his legs splayed out like he’s begging for it, and sometimes Niall just goes for however the mood strikes. But this is different, the way Harry’s staring at him and the arch of his back making Niall want to do whatever he wants. 

“This,” Harry tugs Niall forward into the cradle of his hips, “want to feel you pressed all along me, Nialler.”

“Yeah,” Niall nods, snogging Harry as he thrusts in, Harry biting at his lip when he bottoms out. He leans up for a moment, bracing his hands on either side of Harry’s head and careful not to snag his hair. Harry’s grinning up at him, his grin turning wicked when he clenches.

“Fuck, Haz,” Niall exhales shakily, lowering himself and catching Harry’s lips with his own. “That was cruel.”

“You loved it,” Harry links his arms around Niall’s back, cuddling him for a moment like Niall’s not inside him and desperate to move. “You love me.”

“I do,” Niall snogs Harry again, melting into Harry’s touch until Harry does it again. “Fuck, I love you so much, but if you keep doing that I’ll die and then what will you do?”

“I’ll have died too,” Harry shrugs, trailing his hands down to Niall’s arse before settling them at Niall’s hips. “Death by shagging, it’s a real shame for everyone who loves us but what a way to go.”

“It’ll break the jizz oath,” Niall gasps out when he pulls almost all the way out, the head of his cock catching before he slides back in. “They’ll all know what we were up to.”

“Then you’ll have to not shag me to death,” Harry kicks his leg out, cock smearing against Niall’s abs when he’s able to get deeper. “Just within an inch of my life.”

“I’ll do my best, Haz.” Niall picks up the pace, knows that he should wrap his hand round Harry’s cock and give him a hand but it’s like he’s lost all his coordination, fucking into Harry for dear life. He could get at him from a better angle if he was sat back a bit and not pressed in tight, but Harry keeps pulling him closer, mumbling nonsense in his ear.

“Niall,” Harry murmurs, “I’m close, keep going.”

“Lemme,” Niall moves for Harry’s cock but Harry makes a face, pulling Niall close again. The head of his cock is leaking steadily against Niall’s stomach and Harry starts shifting his hips, fucking down onto Niall’s cock and then back up. “Shit, Hazza.”

“Yeah,” Harry’s breathless, biting at his lip when he comes completely silent, cock pulsing hot between them. 

It stuns Niall for a second, gone still until Harry’s arse twitches in an aftershock. Harry does moan then, quiet. 

“That was,” Harry groans a bit when Niall slips out, “you close?”

“Yeah, just,” Niall braces his hand on Harry’s chest when Harry rolls off the condom and shuffles around until he’s got his mouth closed around the head of Niall’s cock, sucking hard. It only takes a moment before Niall loses it, coming into Harry’s mouth and tugging at his hair with his hand that’s not covered in jizz.

“Niall,” Harry sits up, smoothing his hands over Niall’s chest and snogging him deep. There’s still a bit of Niall’s come in his mouth and it’s not an unpleasant thing, Niall more into it than he would have thought, the come sliding between their tongues until Harry makes a satisfied noise, pulling back and smiling.

“Jizz oath, yeah?” Niall dips his head down and licks a path across Harry’s chest, Harry’s breath catching.

“Yeah, it’s more binding than blood, I heard.” Harry thumbs at Niall’s bottom lip, spreading the wetness there. “Like we’re linked forever now.”

“Think we already were.” Niall tangles himself up with Harry, snogging him softly for what feels like ages. 

“Gotta shower,” Harry says after a long time. “What time can we go to hospital?”

“Don’t wanna touch my phone right now to see,” Niall thinks he’d heard it go off while they were shagging. “Don’t know if I can look Pepper in the face after that.”

“I’ve trained myself to look at Stevie Nicks, you’ll be fine.” Harry laughs when Niall gives him a look. “C’mon, shower. Then baby. Well, probably hugging Payno for a few hours, then steal the baby from Louis.”

“That sounds about right.” Niall kisses Harry one more time. He could probably fight Payno on who’s the happiest, right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted [here](http://miss-bennie.tumblr.com/post/113280487083/things-you-said-with-no-space-between-us-narry)


	2. betrayal in the common room

“Oi, stop it.” Harry makes a face at Niall again when he tries to distract him from whatever he’s doing on his phone. He’s been on it nonstop the past couple of days, acting like Niall’s trying to pry classified information from him whenever he asks. 

“Starting to think the magic is gone, Haz.” Niall fake pouts, even though Harry isn’t even looking. They’ve got three hours left to kill before they’re on stage; had arrived at the venue earlier than normal because there was a fan mob situation outside. New York is always a mess, but this tour in general has been a little extra in that regard. Not quite as bad as the height of their time in One Direction, but still enough that Louis and Liam insisted on extra precautions. Al has a fucking team now, it’s mental. 

“Yeah Niall,” Harry finally looks up, grinning and flicking his eyes so they go down the length of Niall as he’s sprawled out in the chair, mindlessly plucking at the guitar in his lap. “I’m off you now, did I forget to mention?” 

He clears his throat, pointedly rubbing at the mark low on his neck Niall had put there two nights ago, after their sold out show in Boston. 

“Knew it,” Niall plays the beginning of the song he started a couple of weeks ago, when he was on a short vocal rest and Harry had to go out without him one night when Jeff had visited instead of what he had been doing, torturing Niall with his stupid long fingers and tongue to try and get him to make a sound every time they were alone, then tutting like a Mum the second Niall gave in. (“I know you can come silently, don’t be so disappointing,” Harry had said at the time, on the verge of laughing, and if Niall wasn’t gagging for it he’d have punched him right in his big dick, see how he liked that.)

It’s a song about Harry. They’ve been doing so much writing together over the past couple of years that it makes it hard, sometimes, to really get out everything into something of his own. How he feels, funneled into one perfect thing. He knows that Harry will add to it once it’s ready, smooth it out and make the edges right; but for now, it’s rough and feels good while he teases it out. 

“What’s that one?” Harry’s interested now, suddenly in Niall’s space and shoving over his legs to crowd up close. “Is it new?”

“Yeah, just testing out some stuff,” Niall shrugs, grinning hard when Harry frowns slightly. 

“Secrets secrets,” he mumbles, back to his phone again. “Hey, is Ed coming? He hasn’t replied to my text yet. I’ve got him on the list in case, but.”

“Um,” Niall fishes out his own phone from his pocket, bracing his foot against Harry’s hip and leaning into it when Harry’s fingers close around his ankle. “Yeah, seems a go, according to the last thing he sent. Said he’s bringing someone.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll go put a plus one on the list, stretch out my legs.” Harry’s back in his phone now, patting distractedly at Niall’s head as he gets up. Twat. 

**

Turns out, the “someone” Ed was referring to is Taylor, the two of them showing up while Niall is on the phone with Louis arguing about adding meet and greets to their Australian shows later in the year. He waves in their direction while Harry hugs them both, turning around so he can concentrate.

“Remind me of how much you loved Meet and Greets back in the day, Louis.” Niall paces back and forth in the corner, his phone pressed to his ear so he can hear over how loud Taylor and Harry are laughing at something Ed must’ve said. 

“Mate, if I had known then how lucrative they are from a business perspective…” Louis trails off, Niall sighing loudly. 

“Listen,” Louis continues, somehow managing to sound both annoyed and amused, “I know you and Harry like to whinge and act like a couple of little pissbabies over this, but you are well aware how much creative control Payno and I give you, so can we just cut the shit for once? I’m fucking knackered.”

“Fair enough,” Niall laughs to himself. It’s true, not that he’s about to admit that to Louis or apologize or anything. “You go off to bed, old man, I’ve got a show to do. I’ll talk to Haz.”

“We’re all old men, Nialler, should have heard Payno crying over his hangover this morning.”

“How is that different from when we were twenty?” Niall laughs, Louis snorting hard before he rings off. 

The three of them are squished together on one of the sofas in the corner of the room, Taylor’s long legs tucked under herself as she leans over Harry’s shoulder, nodding at something he’s showing her on his phone.

“Hey mate,” Niall bumps Ed’s fist and leans down, brushing his lips against the top of Taylor’s head. “This one didn’t tell us you were his guest.”

“That’s just bad manners,” Taylor deadpans, her lips in a red line. She’s gotten back into that bright red kick lately, Niall realizes, remembers how Harry had made a passing remark on it after they ran into her at one of the Grammy afterparties months ago. It was the last time they’d seen her.

“I figured it was implied,” Ed shrugs, grinning, “she’s usually my plus one, most days now.”

“And that can change at any time, so watch it.” Taylor laughs though, smiling at Niall when he flops over into one of the nearby chairs, popping one foot up to rest on Harry’s leg. It’s not a public thing, their relationship, although Ed’s known for forever so Taylor does too, Niall can tell from the easy way she takes in Harry’s hand landing on Niall’s shin, his thumb tapping in an off beat rhythm. 

And Jesus, Ed has known forever. Months, now. Niall counts back in his head, realizing he owes Harry a forfeit since they’d bet Ed would have let it slip on all media fronts at this point. 

“Haz,” Niall jiggles his leg until Harry looks over from Taylor to meet his eyes. “Louis’s pretty set on the Australia Meet and Greets.”

“Oh,” Harry makes a face, “I figured that was gonna come up again, Liam sent me a suspicious email this morning.”

“You two don’t do Meet and Greets at all?” Taylor asks, looking surprised. And yeah, Niall’s gone to enough of her shows to know she lives for that shit. “Harry, what about…”

“Oh right,” Harry sits up a little, his hand falling off of Niall’s leg. “I forgot to mention, Niall, was talking to Taylor about some of the stuff, and maybe we could do a different thing for it, like a whole experience.”

“Whenever I do a lounge type event, it feels more personal?” Taylor cocks her head, and Niall feels a weird ping somewhere in his chest when Harry nods next to her.

“Less like a fucking photo factory,” Ed points out, Taylor and Harry both laughing.

“We could,” Harry leans forward, a bright look on his face, “do something, call it like Stylin’ with Stylan, or Sty-Land, or-”

“The Stylan Sty, do a whole farm theme,” Ed jumps in, “Harry’s got the hats for it.”

“If it’s Stylin’ with Stylan, you could have props,” Taylor starts giggling, “Harry’s still got the hats for that as well.”

“I am not letting a million people try on my wardrobe,” Harry’s eyes have gone wide with panic, and Niall forces out a laugh, feeling slightly more at ease.

“Just the hats, Harry,” Ed shrugs. “Maybe the boots. Not your one pair of jeans. No one wants to see you in just your pants.”

“Well-” Niall and Taylor say at the same time, Ed fucking losing it laughing. Niall watches Harry turn red, and wonders if Zayn was really onto something the time he punched a wall all those years ago.

**

“When were you talking to Taylor about the Meet and Greets?” Niall asks later when they’re about to go on stage. He thinks it sounds casual. He feels really calm about it. 

“What?” Harry turns from where he was peeking out at the crowd. “Oh. I dunno, had run into her when I went out a few weeks ago? When you were on rest? Just got to chatting.”

“Ah,” Niall flexes his hand after realizing it was clenched at his side, “you didn’t mention it.”

“Didn’t I?” Harry looks thoughtful. “Suppose it didn’t come up. I think I sucked you off when I got in so it didn’t come up, you know how shit I am at remembering things the next day.

“It’s a good idea though,” Harry continues, “better than the alternative, and maybe Liam is right and we should connect more.”

“Liam said we should connect more?” Niall asks, feeling fidgety. He’s gotta get his shit together before they get onstage. 

“Yeah, because we don’t go to Australia much, it means more if we make a lasting impression or some such,” Harry pauses, looking at Niall like he’s finally zoned in on him. “You okay, Nialler?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Niall knows he sounds off, so he tests out a smile, Harry returning one a moment later. “Let’s get on with it, gonna be sick.”

**

Niall’s being fucking ridiculous. He knows he is. He’s being a giant twat. But he can’t help but think…

Harry’s always at 100 when he’s on stage. No matter what. But suddenly with Taylor and Ed in attendance it’s like he’s at fucking infinity or whatever, dancing about even to “Mixed Signals”, which is not an upbeat tune in the slightest. He’s out there, looking like he used to when he’d sway about and dance like Niall’s Mum to “Night Changes”, snapping his fingers and tossing his head about like he’s a cartoon character. 

It makes Taylor laugh. And Ed, too. He’s out there losing his shit at Harry’s antics, varying between shooting Niall a thumbs up and flipping him off whenever he glances over in his direction. It’s probably for Ed’s benefit, Harry always considering it a challenge to make Ed piss himself laughing, even when they had first met him all those years ago. But then again, Ed never wrote an entire fucking album about his epic love story with Harry. 

He doesn’t think so, anyway, even though he did catch Harry with a glint of his tear one time while he was listening to “Thinking Out Loud”. 

And it is ridiculous. Niall knows from Ed that he and Taylor have finally maybe gotten their shit together, so it’s not like she’s still pining over Harry, years later. Shit, she even had that album post 1989 that didn’t mention green eyes once. 

Niall doesn’t feel insecure, not at all. Not ever. But right now he sure as shit wishes that Taylor, someone he’s been friends with for many years, would fuck off across the globe in this moment. Like he knows too much. It makes him feel off, a bit, knowing she was everywhere first. 

“Nialler!” Harry’s yelling, so Niall knows he’s showing just how on edge he is, the crowd laughing at something Harry must have just said. “Was just saying, we’ve got some special people here.” 

He points to the section up high where Taylor and Ed are standing, surrounded by a couple of their security team, making the crowd go wild. It sets Niall’s teeth right on edge, even though he knows that Harry’s only doing it because Niall got distracted. He straightens his back, walking over to where Harry is and sitting down on their set up. 

He gets a really fucking great idea. Louis would be proud, he thinks. That thought alone should stop him, but then Harry asks the crowd to blow Taylor a kiss.

“In Taylor’s honor, actually, think we should do something a little special.” Niall starts, Harry grinning at him. “Ed, you understand.”

Ed shakes his head, holding up both his middle fingers just as Niall starts playing, glad his fingers remember from when he’d figured out a lot of 1989 after it had first come out and he was so into Taylor’s full musical shift. 

Taylor realizes he’s playing “Style” before Harry does, and Niall can practically hear her laugh even over the cheering of the crowd. 

Niall’s already singing when Harry says “guess this is in my honor too,” to the delight of everyone as Harry laughs. It’s only Niall who can see his face when he turns, the look in his eyes that doesn’t match his smile. Like Niall knows they’ll be having a talk later. Good. Great. Ace. 

They sound fucking amazing though, only fumbling a bit before Harry sings all his bits like Taylor probably always meant him to. Good enough that Niall starts in on Vance’s arrangement of “I Know Places” without thinking. Harry changes it to “your eyes so blue” when they get to the end, and Niall suddenly really fucking wishes he and Taylor didn’t have the same eye color. 

It’s only after they do a grand finish on the chorus of “Out of the Woods” that Niall finally feels better. Maybe a late dinner with Ed and Taylor isn’t the best way to go. Not tonight.

**

“What the fuck was that?” Harry asks the second the door closes to their hotel room, his voice quiet. And not really angry, either, just questioning. It’s been long enough, Harry acting normal enough externally until now, the first second they’ve been alone, that Niall wonders if it could just blow over.

Taylor and Ed had been holding hands backstage after, going on about how ace everything was. Niall feels like a tit.

“It was, uh,” Niall doesn’t meet Harry’s eyes, “a cover? We’d said that we wanted to add in a cover, and we agreed that ‘Landslide’ was too much for us to share, yeah?”

“It was a cover,” Harry steps forward as he snorts, his breathing a bit ragged. Niall turns his head. “It was many covers, Niall. All of them, you know…” he trails off, looking more annoyed than Niall had anticipated.

“Yeah, about you.” Niall starts wrestling with his shirt; everything feels too much for his skin in this moment. “A whole fucking album, about you.”

“Yeah, and we wrote a whole fucking album together.” Harry looks less upset now, at least, his face drawn up in a confused look. “Niall, are you – like, are you seriously bothered? That was years ago?”

“I don’t want to be!” Niall bursts out, finally tossing his sodding shirt on the floor. He starts working on his jeans, wrestling them down his hips so he’ll have something to do as he rants. “It was just this feeling I couldn’t help, and then you’d talked to her and didn’t tell me, and she was fucking smiling at you, and I turned into…into a giant cunt.”

He stands there for a second, feeling deflated as he realizes that he’s stood in the middle of the hotel room in just his pants and socks, Harry watching him with a look of amusement on his face, looks like he’s fighting back a grin. 

“I’m not gonna say you weren’t a cunt,” Harry says slowly, sitting on the edge of their bed and leaning back on his hands, looking up at Niall. “Because you were. This is new, though. Jealous Niall.”

“I don’t want this to be a fight,” Niall’s not sure what else to reply, suddenly remembering over a year ago, still the one and only bad row they’ve ever had, when Harry had thought for a moment Niall was questioning his loyalty to him. “I’m not saying I think…I don’t know.”

“Niall,” Harry pats the bed next to him, his voice low, “have a seat.”

“Christ,” Niall sits down heavily, rubbing at his face. “This is….”

“No, this is great,” Harry sits up, his hand landing on Niall’s back, palm cool against Niall’s skin. “We had that crew member who legitimately wanted to fuck me and you just laughed, and Taylor shows up and you lose it.”

“Did that crew member ever write a Diamond level album all about you and how you’re the one who got away?” Niall asks, laughing to try and make a joke. Make himself sound a little less fucking pathetic.

Harry’s silent for a second, the bed shifting as he moves around before his face is next to Niall’s, zooming in close.

“Does that really bother you?” Harry’s eyes are wide. “Because if it does, Niall, I think we need to do one of our talks about it? Before it turns into a thing? 

“Well,” Harry’s still speaking so slowly it makes Niall want to die a bit, “before it turns into another thing, I suppose.”

“Nothing to talk about,” Niall mumbles. He looks at Harry, who snorts suddenly.

“Yeah, sure,” he laughs, “nothing at all, Niall.”

“I suppose it’s just…we uh, haven’t really written much about each other, not as of yet? And I know it doesn’t make any fucking sense, but I don’t know, seeing you out there with someone who meant something to you made me want to…”

“Niall, tell the truth,” Harry grips his shoulders, meeting his eyes and getting that fake serious voice on he gets whenever Niall yells at him about how their room is a tip and it’s Harry’s fault, “did you want to punch Taylor? That wouldn’t end well.”

“Jesus fuck,” Niall laughs, pushing at Harry’s face when he leans in to press his lips to his cheek, “get off, I didn’t want to punch Taylor, christ.”

“You did, you had murderous intent, I can tell,” Harry’s got Niall on his back before he can protest, Harry’s eyes bright as he pins Niall’s wrists above his head, settling his weight on his stomach. “Over poor Taylor, who thought we’d had that covers bit planned out for ages. She wants us to record it and all, put it on YouTube. So she can share it with her army or nation or whatever she calls it.”

“That’s not…wait, really?” Niall pulls at Harry’s grip, but Harry’s not playing about, his fingers tight. Niall goes still. “To be honest, it made me want to–”

“Want to what?” Harry leans back, releasing Niall so he can start on his buttons. Niall places his palms flat on Harry’s thighs on either side of his chest. 

“I dunno, like,” Niall licks his lips, shifting his feet and wiggling out of his socks since things seem to be heading in a shagging direction, “snog you right there on stage.”

“Oh?” Harry’s eyebrows go a bit higher. “Where people can see? So they know?”

“Yeah,” Niall nods, biting his lip when Harry pops the button on his jeans, hooking his thumb there. His other hand comes up, his fingers absently tracing over his STYLAN tattoo, like he’s not even realizing what he’s doing. 

“Interesting.” Harry leans down, biting at Niall’s lip gently, then with more pressure. “Like that?”

“Mhmm,” Niall hums, “then was thinking, I’d fuck you. Come on your face after. Taylor never did that, did she?” He says it half as a joke, just something to surprise Harry a little, make him laugh at how fucking ridiculous Niall’s being.

But the second he does, Harry’s hips shift restlessly and he snogs Niall properly, licking along the seam of his lips slowly. 

“For the good of our relationship,” Harry whispers into Niall’s mouth. When he sits up, his grin’s gone wicked. 

**

“Don’t move,” Niall splays his hand out on Harry’s back, holding him in place as he readjusts, Harry clenching around his cock before he’s able to do anything. “Harry.” 

“Doesn’t count,” Harry braces his weight on one of his hands, changing the angle slightly when he pushes his hair out of his face, looking back at Niall. “That was my body, not me. Small print. Not my fault.”

“Did you sign some sort of shagging contract I wasn’t aware of?” Niall thrusts in deep, dropping his hand down to feel where Harry’s stretched thin around his cock. 

Harry makes a noise that sounds like it comes from somewhere deep, his back arching as he drops his head down on his forearms. Niall traces his finger lightly again, then a little harder, just to hear it again.

“I did,” Harry sounds fucking wrecked. Niall has to squeeze at the base of his cock to keep from coming right then. “I forged your signature, soz Niall.”

“Great, now I have to sue you for fraud,” Niall leans forward, dicking into Harry deeper with his chest pressed all along his back. “C’mon, need you to come first.”

“I need–” Harry starts, exhaling hard when Niall reaches his hand around to get at his cock, hard and leaking. “Yeah, that. You know me better than anyone, Niall. Just – like that, love.”

He’s babbling as he comes, Niall working him through it and gritting his teeth so he doesn’t let go himself. Focuses on everything about Harry instead. 

By the time he pulls off the condom, Harry’s already on his back, chin tipped up and eyes half lidded, always nearly rubbish once he’s come unless they’re going their shit brand of tantric and trying for another. 

“C’mon,” Harry whispers, voice rough, “think there was something else in the fine print.”

“Fuck, Haz,” Niall shuffles forward, running the slick tip of his cock over the dip in Harry’s chin before he starts wanking himself, Harry’s hand a tight grip on his thigh. “Love you, Harry. So fucking much.”

“Me too,” Harry licks his lips, tongue catching at Niall’s foreskin as it slides over the head of his cock in time with his hand. “So prove it.”

**

“Styland might not be too bad,” Niall says after they’ve cleaned up, Harry’s head resting on his shoulder as their breathing evens out. “Make it something better than how it sounds. And we won’t have to sacrifice our hats.”

Harry laughs, his voice deep like it gets when he’s nearly asleep. He tangles his fingers with Niall’s.

“I can’t decide,” he says, turning his head to kiss Niall’s shoulder, “if I need to have more people write albums about me, or if we need to do what we just did. It’s great for decision making.”

“The latter,” Niall says immediately, Harry laughing again. 

“I’m glad I’ve been trying to plan a birthday do for you again, it was pretty touch and go earlier.”

“Wait, what?” Niall shrugs his shoulder, jostling Harry’s head.

“Yeah, been trying to coordinate with your parents so it wouldn’t interfere with the plans you already had.” Harry sighs, “let me tell you, Bobby Horan is bad at email.”

“You are a surprise, Harry Styles.” Niall holds his breath, realizing that it’s what he’s been working himself up into a strop over. Fucking hell. He is a twat.

Harry’s voice is faint. “I try to be.”

“Hey, Haz.”

There’s a pause, then Harry lifts his head, eyes meeting Niall’s in the dark. 

“Yeah, Niall?” He kisses his shoulder again.

“Give me a mo,” Niall raises their linked hands, rubbing one of his callouses over the smooth skin of Harry’s palm, Harry shivering at the touch, “and then I want to play you something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted [here](http://miss-bennie.tumblr.com/post/120393938488/betrayal-in-the-common-room-narrystylanverse)


	3. BABY AND BIRD, STILL ABLAZE

“Alright, so here’s a list of emergency contacts,” Liam sets a paper on the stack building up on the counter and Harry nudges Niall.

“Wait,” Niall takes a step forward to examine it, “you like, actually wrote it down? Liam, I’ve had Karen’s number for like, a decade now. And wait – why’ve you put 999 at the top? Do you think we’ll forget?”

“Someone’s nervous to leave her, that’s all.” Sophia smiles, setting a reassuring hand on Liam’s shoulder. Harry’s suddenly worried.

“But you’ve like, left her alone before, right? Not alone-alone, obviously, because she’s still a baby, but like –”

“Yeah, of course,” Sophia says, cutting off his rambling.

“With my mum, though.” Liam really looks distressed, watching Pepper crawl around the kitchen floor. Thank god Niall swept it earlier; they’ve only been back from tour for a week and everything gets so dusty when they’re gone. “Or yours. Not like –”

“Not with two of your very responsible best friends who have definitely watched many babies many times in their lives?” Niall finishes.

“Babies who are all still one hundred percent alive today,” Harry adds. Unhelpfully, judging by Liam’s sour face and the way Niall pinches his side sharply. Harry jumps away, scooping Pepper up. Niall’s less likely to attack again if he’s holding a child. “We’ll be fine, won’t we, Pep?”

She gets her fist around a lock of his hair and yanks, hard. Seems like a yes to him.

**

“Okay, lady, according to your schedule –” Harry holds up another print-out Liam’s left them.

“Jesus Christ,” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “Do you think he has those for Louis, too? Monday, 8 am: meeting about Stylan. 8:15 am: brainstorming ways to make Harry and Niall’s lives a living hell. 8:35 am: bathroom break.”

Harry snorts. He wouldn’t be surprised. “How else would they have gotten so successful?”

“Liam has always known how to run a tight ship.” Niall strums his guitar gently, reminding Harry of what they’re supposed to be doing.

“Anyway! According to your very strict schedule it’s naptime,” he says, “and you look a bit sleepy, so me and your Uncle Niall are going to play you a song, I know you’ve heard it before because we played it for you just last week. You remember it, right?”

“Haz,” Niall pokes him in the side, Harry looking up from his guitar to where Niall’s nodding. Pepper’s already out cold, thumb in her mouth and snoozing away in her chair. 

Harry doesn’t frown. It’s a good thing, he knows that. Plus it’s not like she’s leaving in a few hours; they’ve got her until Liam and Sophia come back from their well-deserved holiday.

“C’mon,” Niall eases the guitar out of Harry’s hands before helping him up, “if Liam’s schedule’s right, we’ve only got an hour before she’s up again.”

**

“This feels wrong,” Harry says, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Bit late for that now, Haz.” Niall makes a face as he sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His cheeks have gone red, his lips swollen. It’s been years and Harry still isn’t over the sight of him like this.

“Is it?” Harry shuffles sideways, trying to get away from how Niall’s crawling up his body. “I really don’t think –”

“You’re serious?” Niall holds himself very carefully over Harry, who feels acutely aware of how his pants are shoved down round his knees while Liam’s daughter sleeps one wall away. He nods slowly, watching the smile slide off Niall’s face. “You dragged me in here!”

“I know!” Harry wriggles around, trying to get his pants back up. “And I may have some regrets about it.”

“You may have some regrets,” Niall echoes flatly.

“I definitely do.”

“Convenient that they came _after_ I blew you.”

“Well I didn’t know I’d feel weird about it, did I?”

“I’m just saying,” Niall grumbles. There’s barely any heat in his voice, like he’s mostly complaining for complaining’s sake. Doesn’t mean Harry doesn’t feel a little bit bad, though, guilt about leaving Niall high and dry piling on top of the guilt about getting off with his mate’s daughter right next door. He reaches for Niall, thinking maybe they could make it work, but Niall starts rolling away faster. “No, don’t, Haz, I don’t want a pity handjob!”

“It’s not pity!” Harry says, even though it’s a little bit pity. Like. Eighty percent.

“Don’t lie to us,” Niall says, cupping his dick as he stands up, already heading for the loo. “It’s fine. I’ll just have a sad wank in the shower.”

“I’ll make it up to you?”

Niall’s laugh echoes loud enough that Harry’s amazed it doesn’t wake the baby. “Yeah, no shit you will.”

**

It’s probably some karmic payback, because everything goes downhill from there.

“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Niall hovers nearby, waving Pepper’s stuffed bunny while she cries into Harry’s chest.

Things had been fine until Harry’d tried to set her in the cot – only four minutes behind schedule – and she’d started crying immediately. It’s been the same thing for the past hour. She isn’t warm, doesn’t seem to be cutting teeth, she’s just… miserable.

“I checked.” He bounces her a bit, starting to walk a slow circle around the room. It’s the only thing that calms her down. “I think she just hates that thing.”

“Who wouldn’t? It’s like a mesh baby cage.”

“Lux loved hers, remember? And Laser and Stevie always –”

“Lux lived in hers, probably screamed bloody murder when Lou brought her home, yeah? And the other two are Maliks; they’d sleep in a pile of twigs if you wanted ‘em to. Maybe we could put her in the chair?”

“She can’t sleep in the chair all night, Niall!”

Niall rolls his eyes, crossing the room and snatching Pepper right out of his arms. A horrible part of Harry is relieved that she doesn’t stop crying. A very, very small part.

“I know, we’ve all had very difficult days,” Niall says, his mouth pressed to the crown of her head as he starts walking the path Harry had been stuck in. “All of us except Uncle Haz, who is making out like a king.”

“I am n–”

“I’m kidding,” Niall says, reaching out, catching Harry’s little finger and squeezing. “You wanna make her a bottle, see if that helps?”

Harry watches as Pepper arches her back, shouting _nonononono_ like it’s the only word she knows. Niall has to hold onto her with both arms to keep her from flipping herself onto the floor.

“Yeah,” he says, backing away slowly, “but you have to tell Liam that we got her off her feeding regimen.”

The noise Niall makes is something between a laugh and a pained groan. Harry’s surprised he can even hear it over all the crying.

**

Pepper eventually tires herself out, going limp in Niall’s arms and not stirring when he lays her down.

She’s up two hours later, repeating the whole cycle, only this time it’s _mamamamama_ instead of _nonono_. Harry’s heart feels like it’s slowly cracking in two.

“I didn’t realize this was a two-show day,” he jokes weakly while Niall crawls around on the floor, looking for the dummy she’d chucked across the room in a fit of rage. Sadness? Loneliness? Confusion? Harry doesn’t know why she’s crying. He doesn’t think she does, either.

“She’s gonna have more Grammys than us if she doesn’t blow her vocal cords before she’s two.”

“Maybe we could sample her in our next song,” Harry says. He starts singing the one they’ve been working on this past week, trying to time it so her crying seems like an echo.

Pepper doesn’t seem to like the sound of his voice that much.

**

It’s like clockwork, nearly. They get her to fall asleep and then, like five seconds after Harry’s managed to fall asleep, she’s up again, screaming like they’ve betrayed her by setting her down and leaving her alone.

It’s definitely karma.

“Let me just,” Harry snags the back of Niall’s boxers as he gets out of bed, “I’ll blow you real quick and that’ll fix it.”

“What?” Niall blinks at him, pillow lines on his face. “Wait. What?”

“To like, restore the karmic balance of the universe. Y’know, because I didn’t before and now she won’t stop crying.”

Niall drags his palms over his face. “Before, sleeping baby: you felt weird. Now, crying baby: you’re up for it?”

“Don’t say it like _that_.”

“No, that’s what you just said!” Niall laughs as he backs out of the room. “Don’t deny it!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Harry calls after him. “I’m only trying to fix everything!”

Niall’s back not two minutes later, settling in bed with Pepper tucked against his chest. She must be just as exhausted as they are because she’s mostly whimpering at this point.

“Don’t think it works like that,” Niall says softly, smoothing his hand over Pepper’s back.

“Okay, but,” Harry’s already two-thirds of the way asleep again, feeling like he never fully woke up this round, “if it’s like this again tomorrow, then…”

“For the record,” Niall chuckles around a yawn, “it’s real weird how you made that sound like a threat.”

**

Day two brings with it more of the same: fun and games and excitement and then, suddenly, a nightmare.

They try taking turns, only one of them getting up each time she wails, but Harry finds it hard to sleep when she’s crying down the hall. Judging from Niall’s bloodshot eyes the next morning, he hadn’t slept during Harry’s turns, either.

Pepper, at least, seems to think that morning brings with it a whole world of promise and possibilities. It’s the kind of outlook that Harry appreciates, but only when he’s got more than ninety consecutive minutes of sleep.

“I give up,” Niall says, as Pepper kicks her legs wildly. It seems like she’s laughing at his growing frustration. Any time he gets close, she starts to yell. It’s not quite crying, but it’s close enough that Niall hesitates every time she does it.

“You work better in just your pants,” Harry points out, “maybe she wants to try that lifestyle.”

“Well that’s fair, then.” Niall helps her sit up, Pepper smiling when she realizes no one’s trying to force her into her clothes anymore. It’s the same look she’d gotten at breakfast, after she’d flipped her bowl onto the floor and Harry’d just shared his banana with her. “What’s next on your schedule, Pepper? Time to pay your bills? Do some press-ups, keep that baby-belly in check?”

He grins when she laughs and Harry wishes he had his phone nearby so he could take a picture.

“It said playtime,” Harry tells him, both of them watching as Pepper crawls away. “I checked before. She’s free ‘til lunch.”

Pepper turns like she knows they’re talking about them. She claps her fists together and they both clap automatically, watching as her forehead crinkles. She looks too much like Liam sometimes.

“Hey,” Harry scoots across the floor until he’s next to Niall, “do you think we can get her to say one of our names before she leaves?”

Niall stares at her, considering. After a moment he holds up his hand.

“Rocks, paper, scissor to see whose?”

**

Maybe their mistake is that Pepper falls asleep before dinner and they leave her be. Maybe their mistake is Niall convinces Harry that he’s an idiot and they should use the time to do some actual recording work instead of settling their blowjob debt with the universe.

“There’s no such thing as blowjob debt,” Niall says.

Harry stops in his tracks. “Excuse me? Who here made a spreadsh–”

“That was –”

Their argument’s interrupted when Pepper seems to realize Harry’s stopped moving and makes her disapproval known. They can probably hear it in France.

“– a joke and you know it,” Niall finishes while Harry starts his circuit again. It’s edging on eleven and she’s clearly tired but when they tried to put her down she started a fight that hasn’t stopped.

“You still kept track,” he says.

Niall pinches the bridge of his nose. “We should’ve used that naptime to take our own nap, I think.”

Harry can’t argue with that. He’s tired in a way he hadn’t anticipated, the kind of tired that doesn’t just come from not sleeping enough. Apparently Pepper’s at that stage where she’s crawling everywhere and touching everything and trying to stick her fingers into electrical outlets and trying to put anything she can in her mouth and, failing that, put her mouth on whatever is within mouth’s reach, and it honestly was stressful, following her all over the house all day. Even with the two of them here it had felt overwhelming at times. Harry remembers how Lux had been content to be carried everywhere at this age, and how Zayn’s kids had seemed to sleep more than they were awake. Pepper, though. She wants to do everything by herself, on her own terms, and Harry respects it, but it’s exhausting.

“C'mon,” Niall’s hand settles at the nape of Harry’s neck, solid in the same way Pepper is growing heavy in Harry’s arms, “let’s just… she can sleep with us again, yeah?”

Harry nods and lets Niall steer him towards bed.

**

He wakes with a start in the middle of the night, heart going quick like he’d been dreaming something he already can’t remember.

In the dark he can only just make out the way Niall’s sleeping flat on his back, one arm stretched out at an awkward angle like even in his sleep he’s going to make sure Pepper can’t get anywhere.

Because she’s curled up in the bend of his arm, breathing heavily. Harry wants to smooth back her hair, fix the way her blanket’s gotten tangled around her arm, but it knows it’s too risky. This is the longest she’s slept in one stretch since Liam and Sophia dropped her off. He reaches for the journal on his nightstand instead. If he writes anything down, well, it’s the middle of the night. No one ever has to know.

**

When he wakes up again, it’s because Pepper’s got her finger crammed up his nostril.

“Please stop,” he says, pulling her hand away. She makes a face like she’s not sure if she’s going to laugh or cry and Harry makes a split second decision to bundle her right out of the bed and down the hall before she can decide.

It’s not fully autopilot, because he hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing, really, but he changes her and puts her in more clothes than she’d fallen asleep in and then gets his own self sorted and, before either of them is fully awake, stuffs her into her buggy and takes her for a jog.

“There you are,” Niall says, greeting them at the door when they get back. “I texted you, but –”

Harry pats his pockets before spotting his phone on the counter. Niall laughs.

“It’s alright. I figured it out once I realized the buggy and your trainers were both gone.”

“Sorry,” Harry says, toeing out of his shoes before leaning over, kissing Niall quickly and then pressing his cold nose to his neck. “We weren’t long, though. It’s colder than I’d thought.”

“I can tell!” Niall lifts Pepper out of her seat, tossing her in the air so she laughs. It seems like the fresh air did her good. Or maybe it was the solid sleep. Both, Harry thinks. “You want to shower while I feed her?”

Harry nods. The fresh air helped him, too. He hears Niall talking about peach puree as he goes, Pepper making high-pitched noises like she’s answering.

It took some time, but he thinks they’re finally getting a handle on this whole situation.

**

“You know what?” Niall steps in just before Pepper yanks the cord for the lamp. “Ooh look what I found! You want the ball? Go get it.”

He rolls the ball across the floor, Pepper crawling after it as fast as her chubby legs allow. Harry tries not to think about how their latest tactics involve treating her like she’s more puppy than human.

“I think Liam’s schedule business is shit,” Niall says, picking up where he’d been before he needed to stave off an electrocution. “Shoot. It’s stupid?” He looks at Pepper, who isn’t paying either of them any mind, too distracted by a scarf Harry’d left dangling off the sofa. “Whatever. She’s a baby, not in the army, is what I mean.”

“Right?” Harry laughs. “Thank you,” he says when Pepper hands him the end of his scarf. The end has clearly been in her mouth, but he tries not to make a face.

After a moment he stretches out, poking Niall with his toes. “I was thinking, maybe we could pop round the shops later? I think I could make some food better than the jarred ones Soph packed her, yeah?”

Niall snorts but nods anyway. “Yeah, alright. Sound good to you, Peps? Want Uncle Haz to make you a fresh mash?”

“No!” she says, clapping her hands, grinning so hard her eyes look like they’ve disappeared.

**

“In her defense, she said no when you first offered.”

Harry looks at the front of his shirt, sweet potato mash bleeding through the fabric. He regrets wearing this shirt, in particular, but that’s on him. Clearly dinner time requires crap t-shirts instead of designer.

Pepper’s refusing to eat anything Harry’s made, starts crying anytime he puts the spoon near her mouth. After a while Niall had caved and given her some rice puffs, so now she’s eating those and crying and it’d be hilarious if Harry weren’t taking everything to heart.

She bangs her fists together, like an angry clapping, and Niall claps his hands with her. “Yaaay, you ate all the puffs!”

“You don’t want to try potatoes again?” Harry asks, airplaning a spoonful towards her mouth while she’s distracted by Niall.

She’s quick though, clamming up at the last second, ending up with food all over her chin before she bats the spoon away and Harry ends up with even more on his shirt. Pepper starts crying like it’s her yet-unreleased-2022-fall-collection shirt that’s been destroyed.

“Oh for –” he catches himself, passing the bowl to Niall so he can take off the shirt and rinse it in the sink.

“Oh, Christ,” he hears Niall mutter, “Haz, brace yourself.”

“For what?” Harry has just enough time to ask before there are footsteps down the hall.

“Hello, lads, how are we doing?” Louis asks. He pauses as he takes in what Harry is _sure_ is a chaotic scene – him, shirtless, bent over the sink, Pepper with a mix of sweet potato mash and tears on her face, and Niall, holding a plastic bowl in one hand and his phone in the other.

Harry knows, just knows Liam’s sent Louis here to check on them, and this. Well. It’s not great.

“Brilliant, Tommo,” Niall says, while Pepper claps and cries like she’s not sure if she’s happy or sad to see Louis. Harry’s in the same boat.

Louis laughs, holding out his phone while he takes their picture. “This one’s going on the office wall! Maybe you lot should make it your next album cover.”

Harry raises his eyebrows.

“No,” Niall says, turning around, stopping Harry from saying how it could be a hilarious choice.

“No!” Pepper echoes, clapping her hands again. “Lou!”

Niall shrugs. “Two against one, sorry, Haz.”

“Hello, love,” Louis says, stooping to kiss Pepper’s forehead as she claps her fists again. “Oh, do you want more?” He moves his hands in the same fist-banging motion Pepper had as he talks, only Louis’s version is slower and less like clapping. “What, more puffs?” He does it again, Pepper mimicking him, kicking her feet happily as he unceremoniously dumps more puffs on her tray.

“The fu–udge is that?” Niall asks, sounding stunned.

“More?” Louis does it again, turned so Niall and Harry can see. “Soph’s got her on this whole baby signing thing, I dunno, Liam’s always yammering on about it but who can remember.”

“Is that a thing?” Niall looks from Pepper to Harry to Pepper again, like either of them has the answer. “Liam didn’t put that in the manual.”

“Manual?” Louis laughs. He laughs even harder when Niall reaches for the papers on the table. There’s mash smeared on them now, too. God, they’re going to be finding that everywhere for the rest of the month. “Jesus.”

“Lou!” Pepper yells, the puffs gone. “No!”

“No what?” Louis asks, setting the papers aside and reaching for her. “Can you believe your daddy left you here with these nutcases? They’re turning you into an oompa loompa, you’re so orange. Where’s your bib? Where’s your shirt? You look like Uncle Harry right now.”

“Ree!” she yells, pointing to Harry, and all the protests about how her bibs are in the wash and she hates wearing clothes almost as much as she hates her cot and homemade sweet potato mash die on his lips. Niall makes a choked off sound. Harry hadn’t even won the bet; they’ve been trying to get her to say Niall all weekend.

“Yeah, Uncle Harry.” Louis sounds unphased but the way he’s grinning lets Harry know he knows what a moment it is. “I guess someone should text your mum, let her know she’ll be coming home to a baby with a butterfly on her belly.”

Pepper squeals when Louis blows a raspberry on her stomach. Harry feels like he might melt right into the floor when she reaches her hands out for him to rescue her.

“Tell Uncle Harry to get me a beer,” Louis says. “I didn’t come here straight from customs to be treated with such horrible service.”

Pepper does no such thing, but Harry gets Louis is beer all the same.

**

“Straight off the plane to here, huh?” Niall asks later, a freshly-bathed Pepper curled up in his lap, sleepily playing with a stuffed turtle. “Payno’s that worried?”

Louis snorts. “Didn’t even tell him I was coming back yet. He thinks I’m in LA until Tuesday.”

“It’s Sunday,” Harry says.

Louis pats his knee like it isn’t a useless thing to say. “Meetings got moved around, you know how it goes. Figured I’d check on you two since you were stuck on terror watch.”

“She’s not a terror,” Harry says, making a face.

Louis raises his eyebrow. “So she’s sleeping in her cot just fine, yeah?”

Their silence is incriminating. Louis chuckles. “Listen, I told Liam that the first time after me and El watched her and he told me I must’ve been putting her down wrong. That it was only an issue of keeping Pepper on her routine.”

“Wait.” Niall’s got the same look on his face that Harry thinks he must have on his own, like he’s not fully sure of what he’s hearing. “She –”

“Screamed bloody murder every hour on the hour?” Louis nods. “She hates that bloody cot and Liam won’t hear a word of it. Me and El just build a pillow wall and let her kip in our bed when we mind her. Don’t tell Liam and Soph, though.”

“Jesus.” Niall blows all his breath out toward the ceiling. Harry feels like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders.

“We thought it was us! I was going mental,” Harry says. “Liam went on and on about her schedule and we tried so hard and then.”

Louis makes a noise like an explosion, both Harry and Niall laughing.

“Who knew you were such a monster, eh?” Niall asks, tickling Pepper until she’s squirming in his lap, saying _nonono_ as she laughs.

**

They don’t bother trying to put her down after Louis leaves. Niall carries her into their room and plonks her right in the center of the bed. Harry finds himself holding his breath for a moment but nothing happens.

“Would you look at that,” Niall says, his arm snaking around Harry’s waist, pulling him closer. They stand there for a moment, not saying anything. Harry tries not to think of the soppy, punchdrunk things he’d scribbled in his notebook earlier this weekend, but they come to mind anyway.

**

“How’d it go?” Liam asks, looking suntanned and well-rested in their kitchen a few days later. He’s got Pepper dangling upside-down, the tiny, lopsided pigtails Harry’d put her hair in this morning already slipping loose. “Was she alright for you?”

“Wasn’t too much trouble, right?” Sophia asks, smiling as Liam rights Pepper. Sophia licks her thumb, wiping a smudge of Pepper’s cheek. Harry’s attempt at squash and peas had gone over much better than the sweet potatoes.

“It was fits and starts,” Niall says, “but we all got on in the end, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry very pointedly does not acknowledge the squash in Niall’s hair. Or his own. Or Pepper’s. “Anytime you want to get away again, just, you know, if we’re in town, obviously, you can call us.”

Niall pinches his side sharply. 

“Thanks, mate.” Liam looks well and truly pleased.

“Bye!” Pepper says, waving her hand.

“That’s our cue, I think.” Sophia says. “You should come to dinner this weekend. Our way of saying thanks.”

Harry nods, starting to say thanks, they’ll be there, when Niall says, “Oh, we would but we’ll be in Tenerife. Rain check?”

“Of course.” She pecks both their cheeks, Pepper leaning dangerously off Liam’s him to mimic her, leaving the whole side of Harry’s face wet from her attempt at a kiss goodbye. “Have fun.”

“Have fun, lads. Thanks again!” Liam calls over his shoulder, Pepper shouting _byebyebyereebye_ as they go.

Harry’s heart lurches at her tiny voice. He’s going to miss having her shrieking all the time. Or he would, if they were going to be sat at home in the quiet.

“Tenerife, hmm?” He nudges Niall’s hip with his own. “When did that happen?”

“This morning, while you lot were out for your jog. Figured we deserved a holiday after all our hard work.” He nods in the direction of his laptop, open on the counter. Harry touches the trackpad, waking it up to find their itinerary open in a tab.

“Very sneaky, Mr. Horan.” He grins over his shoulder, liking the way Niall flushes with pride. “Could’ve left tonight.”

“Could’ve,” Niall agrees. He reaches under Harry’s arm, switching to a different tab. “Wanted to leave time to settle up, though.”

“Settle what?” Harry watches a spreadsheet load on the screen.

_BJ debts_

_h: 1_

_n: 0_

“Wash that mash out of your hair,” Niall says, slipping his hand up under the back of Harry’s shirt, dragging his fingertips all the way up and then all the way down Harry’s spine, making him shiver, “because you owe me.”

Harry turns around slowly. “What if you help me wash the mash out and then I blow you in the shower?”

Niall bites his lip, considering. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted [here](http://megalong.tumblr.com/post/125253649303/narry-kidfic-aka-baby-and-bird-still-ablaze)


	4. me, my lover carol, and the stings

“Got more cards in the post,” Harry says, dropping envelopes by Niall’s elbow. “What’s that, is it the one we did last week?”

Niall nods, not pausing the playback he’s listening to. It’s missing _something_ , he just can’t figure out what. He’s been trying to figure it out all morning.

“Hey,” Harry cups the back of Niall’s neck, his thumb digging into the knot he hadn’t realized was there, “take a break, yeah? We should like, layer the chorus or something, I think. Or try it at least, but not just yet.”

“Yeah.” Niall drops his chin, groaning as he feels the knot start to break up. Without looking he reaches out, writes LAYER on the notepad they keep down here so they don’t forget every fucking idea they come up with. Harry reaches around him, pausing the track, sending the studio into silence.

“Better?”

“Cheers.” Niall nods, kicking the chair out next to him so Harry’ll sit down. He pulls the pile of envelopes closer, ignoring the way Harry’s kicked his feet up and is trying to poke Niall in the ribs with his toes now. “Are these good cards or more of the boring ones?”

“Good ones, I think. At least, they’re for us,” Harry digs his heels into Niall’s thigh so he can scoot his chair closer, “like, from people we know. Came in the actual post to the house.”

They’ve been getting so many Christmas cards from random industry people this year it’s mental. There’s a whole box of them in the office, waiting for someone to sort through and send out the appropriate _Season’s Greetings from Stylan!_ card in return.

“See,” Harry taps the return address on the top card, his mouth already stretching into a grin, “from my mum.”

There aren’t many. It’s still early yet, only the overachievers having sent theirs out already. It’s why they’ve had Liam and Sophia’s stuck smack dab in the middle of the fridge for almost a week now. Part of Niall thinks it’s too perfect to ever take down, even after the hols, _Joy to the World_ printed under a pic of Pepper, surrounded by Loki and Ralph and Watson and, tucked in the background, Liam’s Grammy for the Stylan album. All Liam’s favorite things in this world, save Sophia. It’s fucking brilliant. Niall stops to look at it every time he’s in the kitchen, has caught Haz doing the exact same thing.

“Oh, look,” Harry reaches for the last one, “from Perrie and Zayn! I bet it’s almost as good as Li– oh.” Harry pauses, frowning as he looks at it. “Well.”

“What? Let me see.” Niall reaches for it but Harry shifts away. He’s got that look on his face he gets whenever he drags Niall to a gallery, like he knows what he’s looking at is amazing but he’s not quite sure of what he’s seeing. “Haz!”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Harry shakes his head, passing the card to Niall so he can finally get a look at it. It’s just Zayn and Pez and the kids in what he knows is their back garden, only –

“Did…” Niall turns the card in his hand, frowning. Zayn looks weird, like he’s bigger than anyone else. “Did he photoshop himself into this?”

“Not very well,” Harry laughs, his arm pressing against Niall’s as he tries to nick the card back. It looks horrible. Niall can’t wait until it’s on their fridge for the next forever. “I did a better job of cropping you into that picture of me and Sting and I was pissed and only using my phone.” He laughs again. “Remember that?”

Niall coughs, his throat going dry suddenly. Of course he remembers. It’s not like Harry dropped the idea of tantric after that summer. Years gone and he’s still convinced they’ll get it right someday.

“Not really,” Niall says, just do be a shit, “think you should probably remind me.”

“Is that so?” Harry raises his eyebrows, tongue darting out as he wets his lips. Niall has been down here a long time. Since breakfast at least, and now it’s easily noon. Maybe even two.

“Definitely.” Niall sets Zayn’s card aside, making sure it’s upside down so he doesn’t accidentally catch sight of Laser and Stevie at any point. Or Zayn. God, Niall would probably lose it laughing and ruin the moment completely if he saw Zayn’s giant photoshopped head mid-fuck. “Could use lots of revising, the one-on-one kind. Put me in remedial classes. Sting sex for dummies.”

“Well,” Harry leans in, his fingers playing at the waistband of Niall’s joggers, “then I guess I’ll be seeing you in a week.”

“Wait, what?” Niall’s dick’s interested now. “You said – I – but –”

“The best way’s to put it off a bit,” Harry says. His hand is still tucked in Niall’s pants, knuckles digging into Niall’s skin.

“A week isn’t a bit, Haz.”

“You want to try for longer?”

“No,” Niall says darkly.

“Right. Next week, then.” He moves back, patting Niall’s knee with a smirk. The bastard always knows exactly what he’s doing. “Hands off ‘til then.”

Niall presses his lips together as Harry wheels his chair backwards, putting actual distance between them.

“Anyway,” Harry’s voice is light, his face completely different than it had been a minute ago, “queue up the song we did last week, would you? I think I thought of a better second verse and you have to tell me if you like it.”

**

Niall, though annoyed, manages just fine for the first couple of days. He and Harry are swamped, trying to sort out songs for the new album even though it’s not due for months. He’d forgotten, somehow, all the hard parts of putting an album together.

“It’s like childbirth,” Liam says.

Louis and Niall exchange looks across the conference table. Niall points, raising his eyebrows until Louis concedes.

“What’s that then, Payno?”

“Oh, no, it’s like, you know, that thing where holding your baby makes you forget how horrible the birth was.”

“I’m sure Soph would love to hear how Niall and Harry’s inability to lay down a single track is as painful as p–”

He’s cut off when Liam claps his hand over Louis’s mouth. There are still muffled noises, and Liam makes a disgusted face when Louis seemingly licks his palm, but he doesn’t let go.

“Sorry,” Harry says, coming back from the hallway. He squeezes the back of Niall’s neck gently, leaves his hand there as he drops into his chair. “Bit of a mix-up with John, there’s a thing with the – wait.” He pulls Niall closer, nodding across the table. “Is Louis in a time out, or?”

Niall shakes his head, refusing to stare too long at Harry’s mouth. He’s clearly been biting his lip. Must’ve been a stressful five minutes on the phone.

“He compared our new baby to Pep,” he says, focusing on how Liam’s managed to get both of Louis’s hands in one of his, effectively trapping him. It’s. Fuck. It’s only been four days. It shouldn’t be calling to mind him and Harry and –

“Yikes,” Harry says, squeezing the back of Niall’s neck. He smirks like he knows exactly what Niall’s thinking. He traces his fingertip over the smooth skin behind Niall’s ear, biting his lip when Niall shivers. He tries to hide his grin when he notices Niall’s looking, but he’s too slow.

“I hate you,” Niall says with all the heat as he can muster.

It isn’t much at all.

**

The next morning he walks into the lounge to find Harry doing yoga. It’s not unusual, except for how right now Haz is wearing the smallest pants imaginable. He might as well be starkers.

“Morning,” he says, smiling brightly when he notices Niall. He’s got a bit of sweat rolling down his sternum, his hair pulled back in a sloppy bun. A flush high on his cheeks.

When he moves, it’s slowly, a controlled motion, the kind where Niall can see all his muscles working in coordination as he shifts, stretches. It makes his mouth go dry. Makes him forget what he was going to say.

He feels frozen, watching Harry reach up towards the ceiling and then forward, folding in on himself.

Two days.

Niall forces himself out of the doorway.

Two more days.

**

He stands in the shower, face turned into the spray, and reminds himself of two years back. When Harry had been on a different continent. When they hadn’t been able to get off unless it was over Skype or one of them had booked a flight.

This isn’t worse than then, he tells himself. Isn’t worse than the first time Harry’d suggested it and they’d fucked in LA, in that huge bed Harry’d had. Isn’t worse than the last time Harry’d set his mind to tantric, circling his fingers tight round his cock so he wouldn’t come, not even after Niall’ed nutted off inside him. He’d been so disappointed when he’d come while Niall was licking him out. It had been hilarious at the time. Now it’s just….

Niall turns the cold water up higher.

**

“You’re doing this to fuck with me.”

Harry’s lips quirk around the neck of his beer. “Doing what?”

He’s the bloody picture of innocence until Niall narrows his eyes, and then Harry bursts out laughing. “Haz,” Niall says, sounding angrier than he actually is. At this point he’s just… It’s been a long week. Last night they’d made out on the sofa, going at it like a couple of teens , and Niall’d honestly wondered how embarrassing it would be if he came in his jeans just from that. He hadn’t, but only because Harry’d rolled off him and right onto the floor, groaning as he stared up at the ceiling, the heel of his hand pressed against his zip, mumbling something about not yet.

Tonight, thankfully, Harry doesn’t even hesitate before setting his beer aside, pushing out of his chair.

“You lasted longer than I thought,” he says, fitting himself into the space between Niall and the table. He cards his fingers through Niall’s fringe, pushing his hair back before leaning in to kiss him.

“Wait.” Niall pushes him back gently, ignoring the annoyed noise Harry makes. “Were you –”

Harry shuts him up with a kiss, teasing just enough that Niall forgets to be annoyed before Harry’s fisting his hand in Niall’s shirt and tugging him up. They trip up the stairs, Niall feeling overly warm in his jumper and joggers. Harry’s barely dressed. He rarely is at home, but there’s a tinge to his skin that Niall knows is because of him. Because of this. Because that fucker’s been waiting for Niall to cave all week and he hadn’t. Had made it all the way to the finish line.

Well. Nearly. Give or take twelve hours.

“Jesus fuck.” Niall falls back onto the bed, closing his eyes against the sight of Harry licking come off his lips. He feels like he’s just come for ages, every part of him gone loose, jelly-like.

“Hey, don’t.” Harry frowns, nudging his side before kissing Niall slowly, like he’s trying to urge him back to life. “S’no fair if you go all lazy on me.”

“This is what Sting wants,” Niall says. Harry’s tactics are working, though. Mostly because he plays dirty, groaning as he works a finger into himself. Playing it up until Niall recovers enough to take over.”You’re a right menace,” he says, sliding his finger in alongside two of Harry’s.

Harry only answers with a long, low moan, his mouth right against Niall’s pulse. Haz has been taking his time, working himself open slowly. If Niall’s cock weren’t interested before, it definitely is now, feeling Harry flutter around their fingers, hearing how ragged his breathing’s gone.

Harry’s slick with sweat as he pushes Niall away, moving him until he can swing a leg over his hips and then sink down on his cock, everything happening so smoothly, so quickly that Niall has to blink hard to reorient himself.

“Jesus, Harry,” he breathes out, taking in the way Harry’s flushed all over, how warm his skin is. He reaches for Harry’s cock but gets thwarted, Harry pinning his hand to the bed immediately.

“Sting sex, remember?”

“Sure, yeah, right.” Niall nods quickly. He wants Harry to move but he appears to have settled his weight in the cradle of Niall’s hips like he’s going to live there forever. It makes Niall break out in a sweat of his own. He’s sure his skin’s just as red as if he’d been sunburned. “Haz.”

“It’s alright.” Harry shifts carefully. “You’re alright,” he says, just before leaning down to make out with Niall. HIs knees dig into Niall’s sides, stopping him whenever he tries to thrust up.

“Hey.” He touches the side of Niall’s face and seems to forget what he was going to say. It makes Niall laugh, feeling awkward with how Harry’s just staring at him.

“What the fuck. Don’t look at me like that.” It feels heavy, this moment or whatever it is. Niall wants to make shit joke to cover it, but he can’t think of one. Harry’s so tight, so fucking tight around him, and Niall’s trapped. Can’t go anywhere. Can’t look anywhere. He focuses on the STYLAN inked on Harry’s chest, traces the letters carefully. He can feel Harry’s heartbeat under his fingertips. It feels like it’s going a thousand beats per minute, just like Niall’s.

He bits his lip. “You gotta move, Haz.”

“No,” Harry says. It’s a whisper. Barely any sound at all. But he clenches around Niall anyway. It’s probably involuntary, just like the noise Niall makes, deep in his chest. Just like the way Harry rocks down a tiny bit.

“Fuck.” Niall squeezes Harry’s hip, shifting his feet so he can get a bit of leverage. “Don’t.”

“Don’t move?” Harry does, so slowly Niall feels like he might choke on absolutely nothing. Everything’s so hot and Harry’s staring at him, unblinking, and Jesus, it’s only been a week, not even, and he’s already come today.

He reaches for Harry’s cock, smearing the wetness down before jerking him a few times, watching the way Harry’s head drops to his chest. It puts them back on equal footing for a few moments, even as Harry starts to move, his hands braced on Niall’s chest, these two solid points of pressure. He misses them when Harry shifts, planting one hand on the mattress and knocking Niall’s hand away from his cock with the other.

“Don’t,” he gasps out, voice cracking when Niall rocks his hips up particularly hard, “don’t wanna –”

“No?” Niall does it again, knowing he’s got the perfect angle. He holds tight to Harry’s waist with his free hand, refusing to let him change the angle.

“Not yet.” Harry’s hair’s sticking to his neck in sweaty tendrils. When he looks up his eyes have gone dark and a bit glazed. It knocks the breath out of Niall’s lungs.

“Yeah,” he says softly, once he recovers. He moves slowly, deliberately, until he’s got both his hands on Harry’s hips. He leans up to kiss him first, taking his time, groaning whenever Harry clenches around him, out of sync with Niall’s thrusts.

All of this is so familiar and yet.

“Gonna last this time,” he tells Harry, “you can do it.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbles, grinding back. His own cock’s trapped between them and Niall can feel it when it jerks, untouched. He wants nothing more than to reach for it, tug Harry off, see if they can come at the same time, but. “C’mon.”

Niall bites his lip when Harry changes the pace, moving a bit faster, suddenly impatient. Niall wants to slow him down, remind him that this isn’t a race, only his cock begs to differ.

“Shit,” he says, nails dragging across Harry’s skin, eliciting a moan that seems to echo in the room. “I’m not – you’re –”

“You first,” Harry says, his fingers ghosting along Niall’s jaw. It sounds like it’s coming from far away, all the way down a tunnel or across oceans, Harry mumbling something incoherent, clenching around him as Niall comes, everything feeling sharper, just the right side of painful this second time.

“C’mon,” Niall’s still breathless, brain fuzzy as he tries to pull Harry further up his chest. Haz is so hard Niall doesn’t know how he’s not wanking right now. “Haz,” he slaps his arse, urging him forward “c’mon.”

The noise Harry makes when Niall sticks his tongue out, licking a wide stripe from his hole to his balls, is deafening. Niall wishes he could record it, lay it under every track on the next album.

“Careful.” Niall presses a kiss to Harry’s inner thigh, dragging his tongue over the ink curling there. “You don’t wanna come just yet.”

“Niall.” Harry sounds annoyed, like he’s trying to decide if he wants to give up and come right there. He makes a low sound when Niall slips two fingers inside him easily, holding Harry open enough for Niall to work his tongue in.

It’s a dirty trick, maybe, but Niall still doesn’t fully understand the point of not coming during sex. More is better, that’s what he’s always thought. Harry curls one hand into Niall’s hair, his fingers digging sharply into his skull. When Niall hums he groans, shifting, and Niall doesn’t need to be able to see to know that Harry’s reluctantly working himself over. Probably has his palm fitted over the head of his cock, just enough pressure to drive himself crazy.

“Hey, hey,” Niall says, “don’t, Haz. You gotta hold off.” He doesn’t mean it, not in the least, isn’t even sure Harry can hear him, not like this. “Don’t you want to wait, come on my cock, bet it –”

He loses his train of thought when Harry groans, shuddering, his control slipping. His thighs are shaking as he rocks down. It seems like he can’t stop shaking, can’t stop making these insane sounds, and Niall never wants him to.

When Harry finally comes, it feels like he does so for ages, all his muscles locking up, his nails digging into Niall’s scalp, holding him in place.

“Think that was a record,” he says, tipping sideways, pressing a kiss high to Niall’s cheekbone. He looks drugged, his eyes at half-mast, words slurred.

“You say that every time.”

“Well. Every time it IS a record.”

Niall laughs. There’s a bit of come in Harry’s hair, which is truly impressive. Maybe he’s right, maybe it was a new record.

It’s quiet for a bit, Harry growing heavier against Niall’s side. They need to get up, shower, but it feels like too much work, at least right now.

“Hey,” Niall pokes Harry in the shoulder, reaching for his phone on the nightstand, “check out this song I wrote for you.”

“You wrote me a song?” Harry smiles but doesn’t open his eyes.

“Yeah, during this horrible week. It’s called ‘Sting Sucks.’”

Niall had recorded it as a joke, fucking around yesterday afternoon while Haz was out. Harry listens to the whole thing, tapping the beat on Niall’s collarbone.

“I love it,” he says as soon as it’s over. “Think we should put it on the album for sure.”

He’s serious, is the thing. Niall knows when Haz is fucking with him and right now…

“Yeah, Li and Lou would love that one.”

“They will.” Harry pushes up a bit, until he can look Niall in the eyes. Dead serious. “Sting will probably be upset though, so we should change the name.”

“Right. We wouldn’t want to offend Sting.”

Harry drops back down with a thump, like his body’s given up. He slings his leg over Niall’s, worming his way even closer. It should be too hot, but it’s not.

“Exactly,” Harry says, his voice muffled by the pillow. “He’s given us so much, Niall. We can’t insult him.”

And well. Niall can’t argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted [here](http://megalong.tumblr.com/post/122505678398/me-my-lover-carol-and-the-stings)

**Author's Note:**

> Coming soon(ish): Stylan 3: Tokyo Drift


End file.
